


Saved

by Llamaonfire



Category: The Beatles
Genre: M/M, McLennon, Rape, Sad, strong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2013-11-28
Packaged: 2018-01-02 20:24:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llamaonfire/pseuds/Llamaonfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul had no hope, no control, but at least he had John, now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saved

**Author's Note:**

> editted by: http://bewaremylove.tumblr.com/

It was a warm Friday night in Liverpool and a young Paul McCartney had gone out drinking, walking the bars with his friends on the alleys near the docks, smoking and talking, and now it was time to get back having planned to meet John in another bar. He started to walk to the bar alone, he sped up his pace in the dark feeling a bit scared. He didn’t even look around just walked fast, looking down, his eyes fixated on the ground and his hands in his pockets. He was sweating, nervous about being alone in this part of Liverpool this late at night. He came across an old blown up building, walking even quicker when a scary man began to walk behind him. His body sent out a blast of adrenaline as the shadow man threw him against the wall and began to rip his closes off.  
Paul fought against him as a horrible rush of adrenaline was spread within his body. “The fuck man! get off!”   
The man didn’t speak, his face covered by the shadows of the night. The only thing that could be understood of the man was his strength, dominating Paul with ease, quickly exposing him. The man’s breath was erratic, powerful, bitter somehow, as he turned Paul to the cold stone wall. “No! Help! Somebody help!”  
Paul felt his body quiver in disgust and exposure as he screamed for his life. He was silenced, first with a piece of his shirt that was ripped from the rest and tied around his mouth as a gag. And then by a thrust.   
A hard, raw, dry thrust that ripped his insides apart, both physically and mentally. He felt the man groan in his ear with every single painful thrust, being gagged, he cried and whimpered as loud as he could. That was when the rapist groaned rather loudly and openly, calling the attention of a passer by.  
John, much like Paul, was out that evening, drinking and having fun. He was with his friends from the art college celebrating the end of the semester. He was to meet Paul later that night in a pub farther down the docks, but he still had time.   
As he heard a noise, he looked into the dark alley, trying to focus his eyes as he heard a familiar pain filled whimper. “Hello?”, He said firmly trying to make out the two shadows he saw. Out of fear of the police, the rapist quickly pulled out and ran away into the alley letting Paul fall to the ground, half naked, crying and still gagged.  
John’s eyes followed the falling figure, approaching him and putting his hand on the whimpering one’s shoulder. “what happened?” he asked still not being able to make out who it was.   
When a response didn’t come he put on his glasses quickly grabbing a hold of the figure when he saw it was his best mate. “Paulie! what the fuck?!”, He could feel Paul fight against his embrace, he looked down at him, removing the gag and calmly stroking Paul’s cheek, making the other look away in shame as tears still fell from his eyes.   
“Paulie, come on mate, it’s me. talk to us.” John pleaded quietly, knowing that shouting would only make the one in his arms fight against him again. Still the response he got was negative, Paul fought against him, moving out of his arms and standing up. “Get the fuck away” his body filled with rage and anger, directing it at anything near him.   
“Paulie it’s me” John said calmly trying to come closer to Paul, trying to calm him down.   
“No! Get away!” Paul said pushing John to the ground with a lot of force, before running off.   
John’s face twisted in anger. wasn’t he Paul’s best friend? why would Paul just run off, not telling him what happened or letting him help him? didn’t he trust him enough? was he not close enough of a friend? Really? Knowing Paul for 2 years and spending almost every waking moment with him was not enough?!.  
Little did John know that was not a matter of being close or being “friends enough” because Paul didn’t want even himself to know what happened. Still, that was not possible. He somehow ended up home, in his room. The whole place spinned out of control as Paul frantically tried to control his breaths, control the tears that came flowing down his cheeks. His anger grew as his heart clenched and more tears came flowing down. He used up all his strength, fighting the shame, the memories and the physical pain, but he was not strong enough. His body suddenly weakened, sinking into his bed and clenching onto the covers, letting out a strong, breathless sob. His breathing grew erratic, curling up in the bed, hugging his pillow with all his strength, wishing that this feeling would pass. This feeling of shame, of lost of control.   
The next morning he felt sick. His body was drained of all it’s will and energy, physically aching and feeling sick. His father saw that there was something wrong with his son, his eyes had no shine to them, they were sunken, his face pale. He asked if everything was alright, but when he was given a cross, dry “yeah” as a response it was obvious to him that it was something that Paul wanted to work out on his own. It wasn’t.   
All the young lad truly wanted was to be able to erase that night from his mind, forget he was ever used, forget how he was weak, how he broke down.   
He stayed home that day, and the next, and the next. Soon it had been almost a month since it had happened and he was still in his room. Ignoring all phone calls from John, fighting with Jim every time he was told to go to school, not eating, even sleeping came with a price: Remembering, having the scene play out in his head over and over and over again. Every night he fought sleep, at the same time longing for it, longing for the peace of his old dreams. He would close his eyes, take a deep breath and soon just as his mind began to clear and relax the feeling would come back. The piercing pain up his back, the tension and the weakness that followed. He pulled on his hair, clawed his own arms as his insides screamed, trying to fight all this alone.   
That was till one night came. Again the haunting shame filled his mind, but this time it was interrupted by a pebble on the window. He clenched on to his pillow with greater strength as he told himself “it’s nothing, just hopeless hope”. He convinced himself that it was just his imagination, but soon he was proved wrong when a knock came from the same window.   
He looked up to find John balancing himself on the small frame, having climbed up the side wall. “open up!” he shouted outside. Paul cleaned his tears away with his cuffs and opened the window, walking back and sitting on his bed, quietly. That was out of character for Paul, making John cross his arms and lift his brow at his disappeared friend.   
“why haven’t you answered my calls?” He spoke in a dry tone.   
-no response-   
“Why? you can’t say you were busy because you haven’t been to school in weeks, I’ve been checking.” His voice began sounding agrier.   
“I needed some time” Was all he got as a response.   
“oh, time” He said sarcastically.   
“to think” Paul completed looking down.   
“oh, to think. That’s funny because that’s all I did too. well actually I’ve been fucking worrying about you for weeks! I called, I looked for you, I even sent a letter! AND NOTHING! YOU DIDN’T EVEN BOTHER TO TELL YOUR SO CALLED BEST MATE WHERE YOU WERE!” He rose in anger, growing red and spitting a bit as he spat his truth.   
There was no response from the other one at first, but just a John was about to take a breath and begin again the broken one launched himself on to his neck, slamming him against the wall. “I NEEDED TIME! THAT’S ALL I NEED! WHY CAN’T YOU MOTHERFUCKING UNDERSTAND! I CAN’T FIGHT IT ALONE!”   
“FIGHT WHAT?!” John shouted back clenching on to Paul’s shirt.   
“I CAN’T FIGHT LIKE THIS! I CAN’T, I CAN’T” Suddenly paul’s anger dissolved in tears as he melted to the ground. “I can’t, too much” He tensed his face as a whale came from his lips. “I CAN’T!!”  
John’s anger was eaten alive by a much bigger monster, guilt. Guilt for making Paul cry, guilt for not being there for Paul. He got down to the ground next to paul, touching his shoulder lightly. “Hey, don’t cry, love”   
He was suddenly involved in a clenching hug, making him fall back on his butt as Paul sobbed on to his chest. His mind ached in confusion and guilt, not knowing why Paul was crying that much, but thinking that somehow it must have been his fault. He held on to Paul, noticing that as he did the other one relaxed a bit. “God Paulie, I dunno why you are crying like this, but fuck i’m sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t come earlier. I’m here now”   
That’s all Paul wanted to hear. 


End file.
